Silver Lining
by Delf-the-Pirate
Summary: (Slashfic, HarryDraco.) When a Quidditch accident leaves Draco Malfoy possible paralysed, Harry is convinced that it's all his fault. Friendship blossoms from guilt and anger.
1. Default Chapter

Silver Lining

_Fall From Heaven_

"Harry, you need to eat." Hermione Granger pressed him, peering out from behind her enormous book entitled 'A Complete and Concise History of the Origins of Ancient Runes.'

"Harry, mate, Hermione's right. You'll faint if you don't eat anything." Ron Weasley said worriedly, his nose scrunched up in concern. "Come on, try the sausages…"

"Er…I'm not hungry, thanks." Harry said quietly, his voice tight.

"Why are you worried? It's not as if Malfoy will catch the Snitch, every time you've played him Gryffindor won!" Ron argued, "Go on…the hash browns are delicious."

"No, I don't think I want any breakfast. I'll get over it. It's only a Quidditch game, after all." Harry said, attempting a smile. His voice was tight as he spoke, and his inner subconscious was already railing against him. _Only a Quidditch game? Don't kid yourself – this is the decider. This match will practically confirm the winner of the Quidditch Cup. _

With only two weeks to go until the Christmas break, each of the houses was practically neck and neck in points, with Gryffindor and Slytherin just a touch ahead of the others, and within ten points of each other. After Umbridge had departed in ignominy and shame at the end of the fifth year, Harry's Quidditch privileges had been returned, culminating in an all-round good feeling in Gryffindor house for the week following. Indeed, the only people who hadn't been even a little pleased about it were, predictably, the Slytherins, and one Slytherin in particular.

Draco Malfoy was _not_ in a good mood. After his father had been imprisoned in Azkaban, he had descended in position from veritable tyrant of Slytherin to an object of ridicule. Only a few faithful allies, for you could not call them 'friends', remained to him. Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode had formed a sort of elite guard for the pale, pointed boy. Although his influence was greatly diminished in the Slytherin house, he still commanded a certain sort of fearful respect. The kind of respect that is given in the knowledge that you are walking past the son of one of the Dark Lord's most faithful, and dangerous, supporters.

"How about Malfoy, eh?" Ron grinned in an attempt to cheer Harry up, "He's looking pretty down-and-out now his darling daddy's locked away in Azkaban."

"For all you know, Weasel, my 'darling daddy' could escape tonight." Came a cold voice from behind Ron. The already-fuming boy whirled around, ready to hex Draco Malfoy into oblivion. Harry turned sharply.

"Shut your ferrety face, Malfoy." He said venomously. He noted with no little satisfaction the pink tinge that appeared in his arch-enemy's face at the mention of… past events.

"You just wait, Potter…I'm sure the Dark Lord's got something better than ferrets planned for you." He spat, narrowing his eyes at Harry, who remained indifferent. He was used to the junior Malfoy's threats by now.

Malfoy turned on his heel and strode away with an infuriatingly calm attitude. Ron's ears were blazing ; he looked about ready to explode. Hermione tutted from behind her enormous book.

"Did you _hear_ that?" Ron yelped, "He practically _publicly announced _who he's supporting in the war!"

"Yes, well, it's not really unexpected, is it?" Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "I mean, it's rather obvious to anyone who knows him."

"I can't wait till dad gets them for something…" Ron growled, the spark of revenge lighting in his eyes.

"Ron. Calm down." Harry said nervously, "You're scaring people." Indeed, Ron's rage had left a few of the younger Gryffindor students cowering in their seats.

"Set an example, Ron, you're a prefect!" Hermione hissed, smiling encouragingly at the scared students. This, of course, served to make them even more terrified.

"Preferably not a bad example." Harry said warningly, barely suppressing a grin, "But I agree, I can hardly wait till they get done in for something or other."

"Harry, are you still not hungry?" Hermione turned to the bespectacled sixteen-year-old. "There's only another hour until the match, and you need to keep your strength up…"

"Hermione, Harry knows what he's doing. He'll be fine." Ron said impatiently, throwing Harry a grin over his shoulder. Hermione muttered something that sounded like 'Boys' under her breath, and went back to reading. "Look at the time…we ought to be getting down to the pitch, I'll get the rest of the team." Ron said, jumping up with a wide grin on his face. "Don't sweat it, Harry. We're going to be great."

In the event of both Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell leaving the team, Alicia Spinnet had been offered the role of Quidditch Captain. She had politely turned it down, saying that she didn't feel up to more responsibility, especially as it was her NEWTs year. Therefore, Ron had been promoted to Captain. Some felt that this was a slight erring in judgement – however, Harry was just fine, feeling that Ron needed as much encouragement as he could get…and besides, although Harry would have liked very much to be Captain, the weight of destiny leant upon him like an unconscious Dudley Dursley.

"Yeah. We're going to be great." Harry repeated, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was about to go incredibly, spectacularly wrong.

-

"And it's Alicia Spinnet, Felix Butcher and Ginny Weasley as the Gryffindor Chasers, with Flynn McCormack, Zahir Webbster and Julius Sneddon as their Slytherin counterparts!" Seamus Finnigan announced with gusto, having taken over from Lee Jordan when he had left the previous year. "And Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke for the Gryffindor Beaters, who have certainly improved since last year, with Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle as Slytherin Beaters…" He shouted, as four more players zoomed onto the pitch. "And, the Keepers are Captain Ron Weasley for Gryffindor, fantastic Keeper that boy, and Matthias Dryden for Slytherin, a new addition for their team." The Keepers flew on to a massive yell and cheer, mainly from the Gryffindors in support of their Captain. "And the focal point for this match, Seekers Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, for Gryffindor and Slytherin respectively!" There were huge whoops of glee from the Slytherins, and the cheers from the Gryffindors were no less enthusiastic.

Madam Hooch stood with her whistle around her neck, next to the crate that contained the four balls. The jet black Bludgers were straining at their harnesses, and the Snitch's wings were humming. The sky was beautifully clear, the sun shining brightly. Sweat ran down the back of Harry's neck, and a lively breeze whistled in the trees.

"Captains, shake hands." Madam Hooch said loudly. Ron stepped forward, glaring daggers at Draco Malfoy, the new Slytherin Captain. Harry could tell that, once again, the two enemies were desperately trying to break each other's fingers. Draco's sneer was marred by the angry red patches on his cheeks, and Ron's scowl was pretty terrifying.

"On my whistle, then. Mount your brooms, please." Madam Hooch shouted. Harry felt the familiar tingle of anticipation as he swung one leg over his Firebolt. "Three…two…one…" There was a shrill blast as Madam Hooch kicked the crate, and the Bludgers burst out of their straps. The Snitch hovered in the air for a split second, and then zoomed off into the confusion of the pitch.

Weaving in between and above the other players, Harry couldn't help but admire Ron's tactics. Ginny, who was quick on her broom, had managed to snatch the Quaffle from mid-air and was now hurtling down the pitch at breakneck speed towards the new Slytherin Keeper. The third year boy was covering his hoops closely, with a mean expression that made him look like a gorilla. However, it didn't intimidate Ginny one bit, and the Chaser made an excellent throw at the left-hand hoop…

"Ginny Weasley shoots, and…GRYFFINDOR SCORE!" Seamus shouted into the megaphone, "What a wonder that girl is, barely a minute into the match and Gryffindor are already leading ten-nil!"

Harry barely heard the cheers resounding inside his head. All his concentration was focused on spotting that little flash of gold that would win the match. He noticed Draco Malfoy scowling in a mutinous fashion, and casting a dirty glance at Ginny as she high-fived Ron.

"And we resume play, with Slytherin in possession of the Quaffle. That's Zahir Webbster speeding up the pitch, and a quick back-pass to Julian Sneddon, and he's away!" There was a muffled thud, and Seamus winced in sympathy, "That's a Bludger in the leg for Julian Sneddon, he's dropped the Quaffle! And away goes Alicia Spinnet with the Quaffle, dodging a nasty Bludger there, and oh! Surely that's a penalty to Gryffindor?"

The two Slytherin Beaters, Crabbe and Goyle, had closed in around Alicia, and Crabbe had dealt her a hefty blow with his Beater's bat, causing her to drop the Quaffle. Madam Hooch's whistle blew, and she awarded a penalty to Gryffindor. Felix Butcher, a skinny second-year, took it, putting it away with remarkable accuracy. The Slytherin Keeper wasn't looking too good. Gryffindor lead twenty-nil.

Harry just had time to see Draco Malfoy hissing angrily at Crabbe and Goyle, gesturing violently, when a flicker of gold caught his eye. He sped towards it, and Malfoy raced after him in hot pursuit.

They were neck and neck…hurtling towards the ground with impeccable accuracy, Harry's entire mind was focused on one thing – _get the Snitch_.

The tiny ball seemed to sense the impending Seekers, and just as Harry reached out his hand to grab it, it sped away, narrowly missing Draco's left ear. The blond Slytherin pulled sharply out of the dive, and Harry followed, curses running through his mind.

"And that's nearly a catch for the phenomenal Harry Potter, who is Seeker for Gryffindor! Too bad, Harry, better luck next time!" Seamus' voice echoed around the stadium.

A further two goals later, Slytherin had evened up with Gryffindor, Ron saving one shot but missing the others by a hair's breadth. Harry was getting worried. If Slytherin got the Snitch, the match was lost.

"And it's Ginny Weasley again with the Quaffle, marvellous Chaser that she is…and Ginny Weasley scores for Gryffindor! They lead thirty-twenty!" Seamus yelled into the microphone, evidently suffused with excitement.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Harry spotted a flash of white-blond speeding down towards the Slytherin goal-posts. Harry hurtled after Malfoy, gaining on him with every second. They were dangerously close now, heading straight towards the ground, each facing the other. With a gasp of triumph, Draco pulled out of the perilous dive, grinning smugly at Harry.

"Wronski Feint." Harry hissed, also spiralling upwards into the charged atmosphere. He was furious – with Malfoy, for tricking him, and with himself, for falling for it. Although he hadn't been 'ploughed', as the technical term went, he had wasted valuable time. It was only so long until Slytherin pulled into the lead, and if that happened, Gryffindor couldn't be sure of a victory.

It was very close. Slytherin had scored again, bringing themselves equal, but then a surprise goal from Alicia Spinnet had brought Gryffindor back into the lead. The game was tense, and a surprisingly strong wind had blown up, making it hard for the players to execute complicated techniques without being blown off their brooms.

"Harry, what are you playing at?" Ron yelled at his friend. Harry realised that he had been completely stationary for thirty seconds, and now, a Bludger was heading right for him. He was too shocked to respond for a moment, and in that moment, Jack Sloper came hurtling in front of the Bludger, and dealt it a hard blow which sent it spinning off towards Slytherin's Chaser Flynn McCormack, who had the Quaffle. The fourth-year yelped in surprise, dodging just in time, but the Quaffle fell from his hands and into the waiting ones of Felix Butcher.

"All right there, Malfoy?" Harry shouted with some amusement as the younger Malfoy scowled horribly.

"Just fine, but I'll be even better once we've secured the Quidditch Cup." Draco spat, a malicious sneer lighting up his face.

"You wish." Harry yelled back, spiralling off into the more open air above the frantic match below.

Draco sneered once more, and then zoomed off to the outskirts of the pitch, weaving in and out of players as he flew. Although his talent didn't match that of Harry's, Draco possessed a certain elegance and carelessness that was a mighty contrast to Harry's breakneck speeds and death-defying, although pinpoint-accurate, dives. Just as Harry noticed this, he saw the Snitch hovering a little way to his left.

"Yes!" He breathed, urging his broom forwards, faster and faster until his hair was all blown backwards, and the resistance made his eyes sting…he was nearly there…he nearly had it…

All of a sudden, a green blur appeared directly in front of Harry. He tried to stop, and managed it, but not soon enough. Draco Malfoy was knocked from his broom by the force of Harry's accidental collision, and was rapidly dropping to earth. Harry didn't notice this, as his hand closed around the Snitch, and he turned round, the golden ball clutched in his fist.

Then he turned round, and saw Draco Malfoy lying spread-eagled on the grassy pitch floor, his eyes closed, his face scratched, and both of his legs bent at angles Harry was sure that legs were never meant to achieve.

Disclaimer – all that you recognise belongs to JKR. All that remains for me is the general plot.

AN – I will try to keep in character with these guys. If I don't, shout at me. Loudly. And beat me with spatulas. This WILL be SLASH. Do NOT say in your review 'Ewwww, it's SLASH, I wouldn't have read it if I'd known!' because I have just told you.


	2. Chapter Two

Silver Lining

_Reality Is Shattered_

_-_

"Would all Houses please return to their respective common rooms." The magically amplified voice of Minerva McGonagall echoed over the silent stands. No-one was talking, much less cheering for Gryffindor's win.

Harry was frozen in mid-air, still clutching the Snitch. From his vantage point, he could see all too clearly the state of his arch enemy. The Slytherin was lying dead still, and as Harry noticed this, the word 'dead' glowed in big, red letters inside his head. _He's not dead. He's just unconscious._ His hair was matted with sweat and, Harry noticed with a jolt, blood that trickled from a gash on Draco's forehead. The pink flush in the Slytherin's cheeks was fading, and, from the air, it looked horribly like Draco was, in fact, dead. His legs were twisted under him, one at a truly horrifying angle, and the other looking just as mangled. His broom had fallen beside him, and the rough twigs had scored a series of light grazes across the boy's pale cheeks and pointed chin. There was a large bruise blossoming on his jawline, already a violent shade of purple. Harry's subconscious registered a far-away feeling of horror, that he himself had done this. By accident, certainly, but it was his fault nonetheless.

Unable to resist, Harry turned his broom into a steep dive, landing about five feet away from Malfoy's prone body. He took a careful step, fearing to get too close lest the red glowing letters in his head be proved correct. Banishing that thought, he took another tentative step towards Malfoy, and another. From this distance, Harry could make out the faint, erratic rise and fall of Malfoy's chest. He was just about to bend down, to shake Malfoy awake, when a firm hand was laid on his shoulder.

"Potter, I think you ought to get back to your dormitory." Madam Hooch's voice said through a bit of a haze.

"I don't think so, Yolande." Madam Pomfrey's fussy voice said, sounding agitated. "Mr Potter took a blow too, if you recall." Professor Sinistra said, refreshing Madam Hooch's memory. She was kneeling beside Harry, a kindly look on her bespectacled face. "Come on, now, Potter. You'll be all right."

"Ah. Yes. Well, in that case, go straight to the hospital wing." Madam Hooch said, shooting the elderly nurse a sharp glance. Harry vaguely noted that Madam Pomfrey had called the flying instructor 'Yolande.'

He got up unsteadily, swaying a little. He leant on his Firebolt, and slowly made his way back to the castle. He could hear voices murmuring and talking all around him, but the only words he could make out were 'Draco', 'broken', and 'dead'.

"Harry!"

"R-Ron?" Harry said, his voice sounding thick and far away.

"Are you all right? Do you want us to take you to the hospital wing?" Ron asked, sounding horribly anxious, "Hermione's got your Firebolt." Harry hadn't even registered the broom being taken from his hands. He nodded, and then the world lurched horribly. He fell against Ron, who managed to hold him up.

"Come on, Ron. Let's get him upstairs." Hermione sounded as if she was underwater, and Harry dimly noticed two pairs of hands latching themselves onto his arms, and propelling him towards the castle.

It seemed only seconds had passed when he finally stood before the large doors that led into the hospital wing. His focus suddenly snapped back into place, and he turned to see Ron's anxious, freckled face, and Hermione's worried features.

"Do you want us to stay with you?" Ron asked, his hand on Harry's shoulder. His face was flushed from the game, and he was breathing rather heavily.

"Yeah." Harry muttered, his face ashen and his voice low and rasping, "I don't feel too good."

"Let's get you inside before Pomfrey guts us…" Ron said, looking around nervously. He knew full well what the nurse's reaction would be if they failed to get Harry sitting down immediately.

Ron and Hermione opened the doors and helped Harry inside. The dizzy Seeker slumped down on a bed, rumpling the impeccably neat pale yellow covers, and causing a dent in the perfectly fluffy white cushion. Harry stared down at the sterile, shiny tiles, and his own trainer-clad feet, and tried not to think about the match. He realised that, once again, he still held the Snitch clasped in his hand.

"Here…" He said weakly, thrusting the Snitch at Ron. "Keep it."

"Er…why?" Ron said confusedly.

"Dunno. Maybe you could name it, or something." Harry said vaguely, managing a feeble smile.

"Right." Ron said, his eyes showing that he clearly thought Harry completely mad.

A shadow fell over the small group. "A fitting name would be Godric, I think, Mr Weasley." Professor Dumbledore said, his mouth quirked into a smile. "However, I believe that now would be a prudent time for you to leave, as Madam Pomfrey will undoubtedly want to wreak some painful punishment upon us for disturbing her patients' peace."

Ron gawked openly, but a sharp nudge from Hermione prompted him to close his mouth. He hurriedly thrust the Snitch back at Harry, who pocketed it with a weak smile twitching at the corners of his lips.

"Of course, professor. We'll come and see you, Harry." Hermione said, shooting an anxious glance at said Harry. "That is, if we're allowed…" Ron nodded enthusiastically, and the two of them shuffled out. Harry heard muffled, concerned whispers, before they were out of sight.

That moment, a very angry looking Professor Severus S Snape swept into the hospital wing, clearly livid. His robes trailed behind him, and his narrowed black eyes were a stark contrast to his bloodless face.

"Albus, I…" He trailed off, catching sight of Harry. "Well, if it isn't the hero of the hour…" He spat menacingly.

"Severus." Dumbledore said warningly, and Snape collected himself. He opened his mouth to speak again, and then the doors burst open with a flurry of white and green.

"Out of my way! Out, out!" Madam Pomfrey cried, "I need quiet. Now!" Dumbledore appeared faintly intimidated, and after shooting Harry an enigmatic glance, he swept out with a nod to Madam Pomfrey. The infirmary nurse rapidly levitated an unconscious, yet breathing Draco onto a bed and whisked the curtains shut. Snape stalked over to a chair and threw himself down, evidently just within the limits of his temper. His knuckles were white as they gripped the chair. Harry tried not to look at his expression of fury, complete with dilated nostrils, clenched jaw, stark white face and eyes so dark they seemed pupil-less.

Eventually, Madam Pomfrey emerged from the makeshift cubicle, her face white and her lips pursed.

"Young master Malfoy has two nastily broken legs. I will be mending them in due time, Severus. It's nothing serious, though he'd be better off being careful for a week or two." Something in her eyes betrayed her calm speech; there was more to tell. "However…I'm afraid that he has taken a rather nasty knock to the general skull area…He may be paralysed."

Snape's face was a mask of pure rage. He got up and made as if to lunge forward, but collected himself in time. He was literally shaking with fury. Professor McGonagall had just arrived, her hat falling off her head. She took Snape's arm and forcefully sat him into a chair.

"Calm down, Severus." She hissed quietly, then turned to Harry with a tight smile on her lined face.

Harry's stomach felt as if it had dropped out. He felt horribly sick, and light-headed, and his heart was pounding fit to burst. He could feel all the blood draining from his face. As that happened, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he let himself fall back onto the bed in a faint.

Minerva McGonagall rushed to his side, and quickly propped him up against the fluffy pillows. Her face betrayed no trace of emotion, but her brows were furrowed.

"Potter! Can you hear me, Potter?" She said sharply, and Harry's eyes blinked open. There was a light silver mist in front of him, obscuring everything from sight, and his ears were filled with a roaring like the sea. Slowly, the mist cleared, and he looked up at his Head of House with an expression of detached horror on his face.

"I…I _paralysed _him?" He whispered, his voice barely audible. His green eyes were wide and fearful, like a deer caught in headlights.

"It was not your fault, Potter." Professor McGonagall said gently. "Lie back, now, and Madam Pomfrey will be with you soon."

Madam Pomfrey poked her head out of Malfoy's cubicle with a stern look on her face. "Minerva, Severus, I don't know how you expect me to be able to help your students with you two fussing around here all the time." She said pointedly. The two Professors took the hint, and left the infirmary.

Everything was silent, apart from Madam Pomfrey bustling around, tending to the wounded Malfoy. Harry lay silently in his bed, breathing slowly and trying to get his mind around the fact that had been thrust upon him.

He had _paralysed _Draco Malfoy.

He was just about to get up and go, when Madam Pomfrey grabbed his shoulder and practically threw him back onto the bed.

"Mr Potter! Where on _earth_ do you think you are going?" She screeched at a polite volume, "You stay right there, young man, until I get you fixed!"

"Yes Madam Pomfrey." Harry replied dully, slumping down and fixing his eyes once more on his worn trainers. After around three and a half minutes of staring at the patch of dirt on his left trainer, Madam Pomfrey bustled back with a tray of obscure looking potions.

"Now, Potter! I want you to drink this Pain-killing Tonic, and this Dreamless Sleep potion. You must drink this one before the others, it's to help calm your mind." Madam Pomfrey said kindly, "Try to get to sleep, you'll feel better soon."

Harry gratefully took the potions, and soon drifted off into a blessed, dreamless sleep. The last thought on his mind before the blankness took over was, _it's all my fault._

"Do you think he can hear us?"

"Ron, sshh! He's asleep!"

"Sorry…"

Harry rolled over, and opened his eyes blearily. He noted that someone had kindly taken off his glasses as he slept. He poked a hand out of the covers and felt clumsily around on the bedside table. After nearly crushing the delicate glasses, he slid them onto his nose and looked at Ron and Hermione with a grin blossoming on his face.

"Hi." He said, sitting up with a sigh.

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione immediately gasped, swooping down on him and kissing his cheek. He reddened.

"Yeah, I'm fine…" He mumbled, his eyes flickering towards Malfoy's enclosed cubicle.

"Yeah, er…what happened to him?" Ron asked uncertainly, gesturing to the cubicle's general area.

"He broke both his legs, but Pomfrey's fixed them." Harry muttered, "But he could permanently paralysed."

Hermione let out a soft scream. Ron's face lost a little of its colour. The redhead, although Malfoy's archenemy, was still shocked by the news of Malfoy's unconfirmed state of health. Hermione was aghast.

"You _paralysed _Draco Malfoy?" She gasped, her hands over her mouth. "But…you only collided!"

"I knocked him off his broom. Falling thirty feet through the air can do these things." Harry said in a monotone.

"But how could you _paralyse_ him?"

"Dunno. Brain damage, I suppose." Harry mumbled. "I don't want to talk about that right now."

"No, of course not." Hermione said, sitting down on the bed beside him. Ron did the same.

"I don't blame you, mate." Ron said hollowly, "If I'd just paralysed Malfoy, I'd want to keep it as quiet as I could."

"Yeah. He'll probably try to murder me, or something." Harry winced as pain lanced through his aching skull like lightning.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry. We should be letting you rest." Hermione fussed, her brows furrowed in concern.

"No, don't worry. I should be OK to go now." Harry said, trying to ignore the pain in his head.

"Weasley! Granger! Out, out!" Madam Pomfrey cried, "Potter will need to stay in for a while, just in case, and I don't need you two bothering him!"

Ron cracked a lopsided grin. "So much for visiting a casualty of war." He said quietly to Harry, "We'll see you tomorrow, mate."

"We'll visit soon, promise." Hermione said, smiling sadly.

"I'll let you know about Malfoy." Harry said under his breath, and from Ron's barely perceptible nod, he knew they had heard.

"Bye." Ron said, throwing a grumpy look at Madam Pomfrey.

"Bye." Harry replied, lying back on his pillows and drawing a deep breath.

He suddenly wished he had something to do. Anything to take his mind off…Harry shook his head violently. _No. I musn't think about it. If I don't think about it, it didn't happen. _He tried to think of something else, and the first thing that popped into his head was Snape. _I hate Snape. Snape hates me. Snape's favourite student is Malfoy. Malfoy is paralysed..NO! _

"No!" Harry growled. Denial was _not_ the way to deal with things.

"What's the matter, Potter?" Madam Pomfrey said sharply, poking her head out from round the curtains. She bustled over and peered into Harry's eyes. "Hmm…There doesn't seem to be anything wrong. I don't think we'll be needing to keep you here for the rest of the day. Off you go!"

Harry got up gratefully, feeling the Snitch still wriggling in his pocket. He took it out, holding it between two fingers, grateful for a distraction.

It was rather sweet, really, for a ball of metal. The whirring noise of its rotating wings was quite like a little voice, and Harry grinned inanely. He remembered suggesting that Ron named it, and then Dumbledore's voice popped into his mind.

"Godric." Harry said quietly, looking intently at the golden Snitch. It seemed almost to whirr its approval.

Then the utter strangeness of the situation hit Harry, and he began to chuckle. Fancy naming a Snitch! He shook his head at himself, grinning at the small golden ball in his hand, and began climbing the unpredictable staircase that led to Gryffindor Tower. He pocketed the little whirring Snitch and muttered the password, 'Remembrall', before ducking into the common room.

He was immediately greeted by Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas, who clapped him on the back, laughing, and enquired after his general health. Then Ron and Hermione shot up from their seats in front of the fire, and began to fuss over him once again.

"Oh, Harry! Are you all right?" Hermione's eyes were wide. "I didn't think Madam Pomfrey would let you out so early…"

"Calm down, Hermione! Pomfrey knows what she's doing, Harry's fine. Aren't you?" Ron chuckled, shooting a grin at Harry.

"Never better." Harry smiled, glad to be back.

Hermione and Ron relaxed, and they led the way over to the trio's customary seats in front of the fire. In between Ron's chatter about the match, and various enquiries as to his well-being from various Gryffindors, Harry was almost beginning to feel as if the disastrous events of the day before were simply a dream, and that he hadn't really paralysed Malfoy. Just a dream.

"Oh yeah. You know Neville fell through that trick door yesterday?" Ron said to Harry, "Well, he was in the hospital wing."

"He heard Madam Pomfrey talking to Professor Snape." Hermione interjected.

Harry paled. He could hear his blood thumping in his temples. _No. Just a dream._

"Well, he said he heard her telling Snape that Malfoy's definitely paralysed." Ron said in a hushed voice. "She can't tell if it's permanent yet, he needs to be awake…but from what Neville said, she didn't sound too hopeful."

"We thought we should tell you, because…you know." Hermione finished rather lamely. Harry's face must have darkened a bit, because she immediately backtracked, a fearful look on her face. "Oh, Harry, we don't blame you. It was his fault, rushing in front of you like that, and you know that no-one else will blame you either…"

Harry swallowed. He knew that the entirety of Slytherin house would be after his blood after this little incident, Malfoy himself included. Not to mention Snape…He forced a smile onto his face.

"I know. Thanks, guys."

**A/N – Thanks for all the lovely reviews, guys! Made my day! Next chapter forthcoming…**


	3. Chapter Three

Silver Lining

_Nightmares and Revelations_

Nights, for Harry, were becoming a veritable nightmare.

Along with the now frequent nightmares of Voldemort, and the accompanying pain in his scar, Harry's sleeping hours were interspersed with vivid recollections of the crash.

Well, to be quite honest, not only the crash.

_Malfoy, lying as if dead on the Quidditch pitch ground._

_The terrible, shattered look of his legs when he had fallen._

_The barely visible rise and fall of his chest, nearly leading him to think that he had somehow killed Draco Malfoy._

_"He could be paralysed."_

_"You paralysed Draco Malfoy?"_

_Snape's baleful, glaring eyes._

_Ron and Hermione's disbelief._

_Malfoy, unmoving on a stretcher._

_"He could be paralysed."_

_Malfoy falling through the air, only to vanish in a flash of green._

Harry awoke with a start, a high, cruel laugh and a green flash echoing through his mind. His breathing was quick and ragged, and he realised distractedly that the bedsheets had somehow managed to entwine themselves around his neck.

"Harry, are you all right?" Ron's sleepy voice came from outside his curtained bed. Harry drew a few deep breaths to calm himself.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"No, Harry, you're not fine." Hermione said, looking worried, "You've hardly slept since the match."

"It's that obvious?" Harry said incredulously. Hermione raised an eyebrow. He looked at his reflection in the silver milk jug, and pinched the bags beneath his eyes.

"Yes, Harry, it is that obvious." Hermione sighed, and reached for her book bag. She withdrew a large and leather-bound book on Astronomy and began to read.

"Harry, mate, you aren't dreaming about the match and Malfoy, are you?" Ron asked, a concerned look spreading across his usually grinning features. "You do know it wasn't your fault, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so…but I could have done something." Harry said quietly, not particularly wanting the rest of the Gryffindors to hear. Ron shook his head.

"I doubt it. There's no way you could have avoided a collision." Hermione said from behind her book.

"She's right, Harry. He blocked you too fast." Ron said, trying to alleviate the guilt that he knew was burdening his best friend.

"It's not going to help anything if you mope around all day." Hermione said sharply, giving Harry a disapproving look. "Eat."

"Listen, mate. Today's the first Hogsmeade weekend. You need to relax." Ron said, "And I've run out of Dungbombs."

"Ron! I would say Harry's more important than Dungbombs!" Hermione rebuked her friend. Ron's ears turned red.

"Er…yeah. Sorry 'bout that." He grinned sheepishly.

"Yeah, Hogsmeade sounds good to me." Harry said wanly.

Harry felt a smile returning to his face. After the fiasco of the past two days, nothing made him happier than being with his friends again. He began to eat enthusiastically, noticing that the plates of breakfast food had been filled, and it was only when he looked up to refill his plate with bacon that he noticed Neville limping into the Great Hall.

The clumsy, mousy-haired boy made a beeline for Harry, Ron and Hermione, the look on his face telling Harry exactly what he was about to say.

"Harry, I heard Madam Pomfrey talking to S-Snape." He said in an undertone, stuttering slightly as he uttered the name of his least favourite teacher, "She said that Malfoy's definitely paralysed."

"Yeah, Ron and Hermione told me." Harry said wearily, "Thanks anyway."

"No, Harry! Listen!" Neville said urgently, "He's going to wake up tomorrow, she thinks. Then she can run the tests on him." Ron and Hermione were both listening to Neville now. "But Snape asked her not to."

"What? Why?" Hermione gasped.

"That's what I thought." Neville said, sliding into a seat and wincing as his elbow came into contact with the hard wood.

"Well?" Harry asked impatiently.

"They're referring him to St Mungo's."

Harry felt the blood drain from his face. "But…surely Madam Pomfrey could fix it? I mean, she's a trained Mediwitch…" He said desperately. Harry could hear his heart pounding in his chest, and suddenly wondered why he cared.

"I don't know, Harry." Neville said, his chubby face twisted into a frown, "But apparently Snape sent a letter to Malfoy's mum and she asked him to send Malfoy to St Mungo's."

Harry's head hit the table with a dull thud, and he glared sideways at the jug of pumpkin juice. It was lifted out of the way as Ron's face appeared at his level, a worried look on the friendly redhead's face.

"Harry, why d'you even care?" Ron asked, his brown eyes sincere and obviously concerned.

"It's no secret that you and Malfoy aren't the best of friends." Hermione said from his other side. "You'd do better just to forget about it."

To Harry, it sounded dangerously like they had been rehearsing. In retrospect, considering that he had come down to the Great Hall a lot later than them, they probably had.

"Yes, but it's my fault." He protested weakly, knowing that his only argument as to his concern about Malfoy was a pathetic one.

"How many times do we have to tell you?" Hermione sighed in agitation. Harry could almost see her rolling her eyes from behind her Astronomy book.

"Look, Harry, just forget about Malfoy." Ron said in desperation.

Harry slowly brought his head back up to normal level, his face despondent and the hollows beneath his eyes ever more prominent.

"I wish I could talk to Sirius." He said quietly, his green eyes misting over for a moment.

"Hedwig, I need you to take this to Lupin. OK?" Harry said quietly, affixing the envelope to his owl's leg. Hedwig hooted her consent, nipping Harry's ear affectionately, and took off into the greyish morning sky.

Harry sighed. He had a free day, but he really didn't feel like going down to Hogsmeade at all, and there was no way he'd be able to persuade Ron that whatever excuse he could cultivate in the return to Gryffindor Tower was true. Ron could see through him like a glass window.

He thought of his letter to Remus. Not only had he spilled his feelings about the whole Malfoy affair, but Harry had been able to unload some of the stress about his prophesied destiny into the letter. He felt a little guilty, burdening Remus with his worries when he knew that the kindly werewolf had enough of his own, but apart from Dumbledore, he was the only adult who would listen. Harry really didn't feel like talking to Dumbledore about this particular problem, as he knew that the venerable old wizard had more than enough trouble to deal with at the moment. He had been away from Hogwarts for a good while, leaving it in the care of McGonagall. Harry and his friends had heard rumours of Order business.

Harry thought back to the news he had received a week ago both from Remus and Hermione's subscription to the Daily Prophet. A family of Muggles in the north of England had been killed in their beds, and the Dark Mark had been seen over the house. Harry knew that this was a terrible reminder from Voldemort to the world at large that he was back, and he was there to stay.

At least, until Harry could kill him.

This was what Harry was most worried about, even more than the Malfoy affair. He simply did not think that he was strong enough to face the Dark Wizard alone.

Harry shook his head stubbornly as he exited the Owlery and headed back to Gryffindor Tower to meet Ron and Hermione. He would deal with that problem when he came to it, and not before.

Harry was quite startled when he saw the portrait of the Fat Lady in front of him. He had been thinking, yes, but apparently he had whiled away the good five minutes it had taken to get from the Owlery to Gryffindor Tower with his morbid, and frankly rather disturbing thoughts.

"Hello dear. Recovered well, I see?" The Fat Lady said in a kind voice, "Password?"

"Hector the Horrible." Harry said dully.

"In you go, dear!" The Fat Lady trilled as she swung upwards, and Harry ducked inside.

"There you are, mate!" Ron grinned, and Hermione smiled at him.

"Ready to go?" She asked, "Oh, by the way, this came for you this morning. The owls came just after you left to send a letter to Lupin."

She handed him a letter with familiar neat handwriting on it.

"It's from Lupin. Why would he be writing to me?" Harry thought out loud, tearing open the envelope and unfolding the letter within. His heart leapt into his throat at the simple message that Lupin had written.

'Dear Harry,

Reforming. You, Ron and Hermione wanted for initiation as soon as possible.

He's back.

Best wishes,

Remus Lupin.'

Harry's face was evidently thunderstruck, as both Ron and Hermione lunged for the letter. They managed to get it without ripping it apart, and read it with grim faces.

"Initiation?" Ron asked softly, his face troubled.

"To the Order." Harry replied quietly, but his mind was not on that.

"Who's back?" Hermione mused, mystified.

"Sirius. It's got to be him. It can't be anyone else." Harry said, his voice roughened with emotion.

"But…but how?" Hermione gasped, she and Ron equally as thunderstruck as Harry.

"I don't know." Harry said calmly.

He felt his legs weaken, and he collapsed onto a conveniently placed armchair, his hands trembling.

"Wait…" Ron said, wrinkling his nose, "Dumbledore's been away…and Sirius is back…That must have been what he was doing!"

Hermione suddenly gasped in recognition. "I've got it! Ron, you're right! You're absolutely right!" She hugged him in glee, and dashed up the enchanted staircase to her dormitory.

"Look here." She commanded, slamming a book in front of Harry and Ron's noses. It was a library book, and she was showing them the list of borrowers in the front cover of the book. Her name was written last. Above it was APWB Dumbledore.

"I don't see how this makes me right, Hermione." Ron said, mystified.

"Look at the cover." Hermione said impatiently.

"_Reincarnation and Resurrection : A Beginner's Guide_? May I ask _why_ you were reading this, Hermione?" Harry enquired, "It's all starting to fall into place, anyhow."

"It's a good book." Hermione said defensively, "Anyway, Dumbledore must have used this book to help get Sirius back from…wherever that veil led to."

Harry nodded, his face hardening. He had no wish to discuss the events of the previous year.

There was suddenly a great noise outside the common room entrance, and after a minute, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas burst in. Their faces were flushed from running, and they were both breathing heavily.

"Harry, I wouldn't go to Hogsmeade if I were you!" Dean gasped, wheezing horribly.

"Why not?" Harry asked, almost glad for an excuse not to go.

Seamus drew in a great breath and began speaking very fast, his Irish accent curling around the words.

"Well, we were just on our way when a load of Slytherins ambushed us, they were threatening us with all sorts of horrible things if we told you that they were waiting for you, and then we asked them why the hell we shouldn't tell you, and then they tried to curse us but I think Hannah Abbot and Ernie MacMillen caught them, and you know they were in the DA and…" Here, Seamus broke off his speech, gasping for breath.

"To cut a long story short, the Slytherins are out to get you." Dean said, collapsing into an armchair next to Harry.

Harry had stopped listening when Seamus had mentioned the DA. Ron and Hermione were looking very annoyed at the Slytherins attempt to wreak their revenge on Harry, but Harry didn't seem to have noticed.

"That's it." He said calmly and quietly. "That's what we'll do to help Dumbledore."

"What?" Ron and Hermione asked in unison.

"We'll reform the DA." Harry said quietly. "Seeing as how we haven't got a Defence against the Dark Arts teacher…"

Dumbledore hadn't managed to find a replacement for Umbridge, and Cornelius Fudge had been too intimidated to try and force another on Hogwarts.

"Brilliant idea, Harry!" Ron said, grinning.

Harry grinned back, just as broadly. He had been thinking about the Malfoy issue, and had decided he needed a distraction from the disastrous events and the guilt that even now plagued him.

The DA would provide the perfect distraction.

**A/N – Sorry about the long wait. Thanks for all the lovely reviews, very cuddly they are! Draco in the next chapter, promise, as well as some slashy implications. Terribly sorry I couldn't put them in earlier, but needed a bit of filler before then. Tata!**


End file.
